it's like i warped into dreamland and the only thing that makes sense is my solo cup
Margaritas ran out of lime juice. Substituted Jaeger. Jaegerita not good.
Just ducktaped my beer to my bike. See you in ten.
It's not like I'm never gonna put out again. I'm a sure thing. I promise.
Why is my drynk life bleeding into my real life
Dude. Get me out of here. I'm surrounded by glitter-faced 40 year olds in halter tops. The desperation here is so thick you can taste it.
Directions to your booty call: go down the part of Route 66 that has all the car dealerships, motels and bad decisions, go past the Christian college and turn left at the Children's Center.
I could be busy drinking my face off and getting red white and bruised per usual
WTF I can't even get a boyfriend here and you're getting nudes from across the country
i swear every fucking time i plan a party, one of our "friends" holds their shit in all week just to punch one off into the master bathroom after i pass out. it's almost like that dump you would see in a port a potty.
All I'm saying is this is the exact reason I should not be left unsupervised.
at one point, you reached into your purse, pulled out a tampon, and proceeded to rub it on your lips like chapstick... that drunk
So, looks like I managed to leave my bra in the boardroom after all the sex. FML.
..and by hang out i don't mean fucking then going back home i mean let's get something to eat & watch a movie and fuck sometime in between.
If there's one thing I think I could really excel it, it's curating a midlife crisis
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